


Little VVomen

by QueenIsabelle



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/M, JHaven Project 2020 (Disney/Rise of the Guardians), Tales of Jelsa Haven, little women au, the vvitch au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26737711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenIsabelle/pseuds/QueenIsabelle
Summary: I am so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is good for. I am so sick of it.JHaven Project 2020 - Dark Jelsa AU
Relationships: Elsa (Disney)/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Tales of Jelsa Haven





	Little VVomen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is based off of a parody video of Little Women and the VVitch by Shipwrecked Comedy on YouTube. I just Jelsa-fied it and kept it more dark than funny. Go watch it; it's hilarious!  
> Thanks for reading!

  
.  
.  
.  
_I am so sick of people saying_  
_that love is all a woman is fit for_  
.  
.  
.

“I am working on a book,” said Elsa Winters, dressed primly in a crisp white blouse and dark blue skirt with a matching jacket. Her blonde hair was chopped short, slightly ragged around her chin, while her blue eyes were focused on the man in front of her. The editor glanced at the stack of pages she’d set on his desk and leaned back in his chair, bringing an ankle up to rest on his opposite knee.

“It is about my life,” she continued when she heard no response. “And my sisters, and what happens to us.” The editor brought a hand to his lips, observing her. After a moment, he dropped his foot and leaned forwards.

“Make it short,” he said. “And spicy.”

Elsa smiled genially. “Yes.”

“And if it’s about a girl, make sure she’s married by the end of it,” he added, pointing at her.

Elsa wrinkled her nose delicately. “Does it have to be to a… man?”

“What?” The editor asked, quite certain he’d misheard. But when he looked at her again, her face was smooth, eyes and mouth pleasant once more.

“Nothing,” she assured him. He gave her a confused look, not quite convinced, but shrugged it off. Elsa smiled, folding her hands neatly together on her lap.

_Nothing._

.  
.  
.

Elsa and her sisters found Jackson Overland to be a mystery. He’d lived with his grandfather, Nicholas St. North, for nearly all his life, yet they had never seen but a glimpse of his uncovered head.

“It is so strange of that boy to not wear a hat,” Thiana, or Tooth, the eldest, said from her place at the table. Despite the reprove in her tone, she was smiling slightly, so that one could see the shine of her perfect, pearly teeth. She was knitting a blue scarf and was very focused on her project, but she still felt the need to insert her thoughts into the conversation.

“I agree,” said Rapunzel, the youngest. She sat in the chair by the fire, brushing her long, golden hair that her schoolmates envied. “It is very improper of him!”

“We do not even know him, and you are already making harsh judgements,” Elsa exclaimed. She was the second oldest, and the most outspoken of the four girls. She had big dreams and a hand that itched to write.

“Elsa is right,” added Anna. She was fifteen, three years younger than Elsa, and had a peculiar white stripe through her otherwise red hair. She and Elsa sat next to each other on the couch, Anna doing her needlepoint while Elsa held a book, though it had since been forgotten.

“Since when do you care for boys, Elsa?” Rapunzel sniffed. Elsa glanced down at the book in her hands, at the summoning spells she’d been looking at. She looked back to her sisters and smiled.

“Who’s to say that Jackson Overland is not perfect?”

.  
.  
.

The first time that Elsa Winters met Jackson Overland, she was not happy. She was at a party she did not wish to be at, wearing a dress that she did not wish to wear, and wasn’t allowed to do anything that she might wish to do.

“Why are you sitting all alone in here?”

Elsa startled at the voice, looking up from the floor—her chosen place of sulking—to see a tall boy with waves of chocolate brown hair smiling at her. He was dressed smartly in a suit, the jacket slightly open to reveal a waistcoat of sapphire blue. Between the rich color and the head of hair Elsa had seen many times before, she knew immediately who the strange boy was.

She pursed her lips at him. “Why do you want to know?”

“I make it my business to know why beautiful girls look so disappointed,” he said, smirking.

Elsa scoffed. “I am not beautiful.” Of all her sisters, she was the least beautiful. Mama said it was because of her boyishness—her refusal to brush her hair or wear corsets or take care of her appearance in any way—that hid her beauty, but the truth was, Elsa did not care to be beautiful. She cared to be acknowledged, listened to—remembered.

“We shall have to disagree on that, my lady,” Jackson said. At that, Elsa snorted.

“We may disagree on beauty, but I can assure you that I am no lady,” she said firmly.

“And who am I addressing?”

“Elsa Winters. And you are Jackson Overland.”

Jackson shuddered. “Oh, please do not call me that. I detest the name.”

“The name? Jackson?” He nodded, and she gave a bemused chuckle. “Then what should I call you?”

“Jack,” he said, and he stuck his hand out to her. This surprised and amused Elsa greatly. She took his hand and gripped it roughly, shaking it in a firm way. He winced, shook his hand slightly once it was out of her grasp, and laughed lightly. “Wonderful.”

“You may go by Jack, but I prefer Jackson. It makes you sound distinguished,” Elsa told him, “so I think that is what I shall continue to call you.”

Jackson chuckled. 

“What?” Elsa asked.

“You never answered my question.”

“And what question was that?”

“Why are you sitting in here all alone?” Jackson motioned to the darkened library that the two currently occupied. The French doors to the ballroom were open, letting in dim candlelight. Through them, Elsa could see Tooth twirling between gentlemen suitors, laughing happily. Elsa huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“My sister told me to,” she informed the mysterious boy. He gave her a strange look.

“Why?” he asked. Elsa huffed once more.

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because…” Elsa sighed. “Because I scorched my dress, and Tooth told me not to let anyone see it.”

“Ah, I see,” Jackson said, nodding. “So that means that you would not like to dance with me.”

“It is not that I would not like to,” Elsa corrected.

“Of course,” Jackson agreed. He began to walk in a small circle, staring intently at his feet. Casually, he shrugged and looked up at her through the fringe of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “So, would you like to dance?”

“I just told you—”

“What if I knew another place?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. Elsa hid her smile.

“What kind of place?” 

Instead of answering, Jackson held his hand out to Elsa. After a moment, she took it.

Silently, they made their way out of the library and the house, out onto the wraparound porch where the dancing and merriment of the party could be seen through the windows. Eagerly, Elsa and Jackson turned to face each other, assuming the proper waltz position. They waited a moment for the music, then began to dance between the windows, stopping in front of them to walk normally. Elsa could not contain her laughter as their dancing progressively got sillier, until they gave up all pretense of waltzing and simply switched into jumping and twirling as if they were children.

It was that night that Elsa found a friend in Jackson Overland. And if he ever asked about the scorch mark on her dress, he needn’t know that it was to cover up the blood stains.

.  
.  
.

After that night at the party, Jackson became a regular fixture in their lives. He introduced them to the other wealthy families that he knew, much to the delight of Tooth and Rapunzel, and they welcomed him into their home.

“My girls have a way of getting into mischief,” Mrs. Winters told him warmly. They sat next to each other on the couch, watching the aforementioned girls perform a play that Elsa had written herself. Only, Rapunzel had fallen onto the older girl, and everything had quickly devolved into an intense pillow fight. Jackson could only smile, his eyes falling on Elsa who was laughing loudly. Wisps of blonde hair had fallen out of her braid to frame her face, eyes closed and face awash in happiness.

Later, after the impromptu performance, the four sisters watched through the window as their mother led Jackson Overland to the fence that separated their yard from his.

“He’ll do,” Rapunzel said, smiling. “He’ll do just fine.”

Anna began to cough, rather violently, into a pristine white handkerchief. The girls all stared at her in varying degrees of concern as Elsa reached out to grip Anna’s shoulder.

“Anna?” she asked worriedly. Anna held the handkerchief away from her face to stare at it—it was covered in a fine layer of frost.

“It has begun.” The girls smiled wickedly at each other

Later that night, Elsa took scissors to her braid, cutting raggedly along her jawline. Once that was done, she carefully, almost lovingly, wrapped the hair in Anna’s handkerchief and set it beneath her pillow. She dreamed of the day it would be put to use.

.  
.  
.

Elsa could not believe this was happening. She walked hurriedly away from Jackson where he stood in the middle of a field, the wind blowing through his simple, loose shirt. Her leaving spurred him into action.

“Elsa,” he called out, running after her. “Elsa, wait!”

“Leave me alone,” Elsa said, shaking her head. Jackson caught up to her and gently grabbed her arm, stopping her so he could see her face. She had her eyes closed, face contorted in a grimace.

“I have loved you ever since I met you, Elsa. I can’t help it,” he begged her. Elsa continued to shake her head.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t! You would be very unhappy with me, Jackson.”

“No, I could never be unhappy with you,” Jackson swore. Elsa stared at him, begging him to understand her. “I wish to marry you.”

“And I shall never marry,” Elsa said firmly. He dropped her arm then and took a step back, his face suddenly cold.

“No, you shall,” he said. “Just not to me.” Elsa shook her head, finally managing to walk away from him. She pictured the man she had seen in her dreams, the one who would arrive soon—perhaps, she thought.

_Perhaps._

.  
.  
.

Jackson Overland never could stay away from the Winters’ household for long. He paced through their living room, telling his tale of sorrow to Tooth, who sat patiently on their living room sofa.

“Girls will drive a man out of his wits, just for the fun of it,” he exclaimed, running a shaking hand through his brown hair.

“Yes,” Tooth agreed serenely. “Just for the fun of it.”

Tooth looked past his frantic pacing, through the hallway as Anna crawled past the doorway that led into the kitchen, frost trailing in her wake. She didn’t flinch when Rapunzel ran up behind Jackson to hit him upside the head with a candlestick. And she watched as he collapsed to the floor, knocked unconscious. 

Then, she stood up and looked at Rapunzel. Without talking, the girls each grabbed a leg and began to drag his body outside. When this was done, Tooth grabbed Rapunzel’s hand to lead her younger sister back to the house, to prepare for the ceremony.

.  
.  
.

When Jackson came to, he was tied to a tree. Surrounding him was a ring of candles, all lit so that the flames licked up towards the sky. In front of him stood the Winters’ sisters, all dressed in their white nightgowns. Rapunzel held a lantern while Elsa held a large tome.

“What’s going on?” Jackson slurred. His head felt funny and his vision was blurry.

_I wish we could wash from our hearts and our souls  
The stains of the week away,  
And let water and air by their magic make  
Ourselves as pure as they_

The chant was quiet at first, then grew to an almost deafening sound. Their voices rang in his ears; it looked like there were thousands of girls rather than the four he had come to know over the past few weeks. He watched in horror as Tooth used a knife to slice her palm open. Blood dripped from the open wound to the ground. It seemed to hiss where the droplets landed.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, voice shaking in terror.

“I want to be great or nothing,” Rapunzel said, grip tightening on the lantern she held. Anna stepped forward so that he could see how her once-red hair had turned white, holding her ice-covered hands in front of her.

“My heart froze,” she said in a dead voice. A bell gonged in the distance. She looked past him, toward the sound. “It is time.”

They took up the chanting once more, slowly closing in on him. Their voices swam together in his mind—he couldn’t tell the difference between them anymore.

Elsa stepped out of line with her sisters and stood in front of Jackson. Slowly, she let the shift drop from her shoulders to reveal her naked body. She reached out a hand to his face. It was wet as she dragged it down his cheek, leaving three streaks of red blood.

“You would be very unhappy with me, Jackson,” Elsa said, her eyes and voice hard. Jackson trembled beneath her stare. He tried to make a sound, but only a whimper escaped.

“P-please,” he whispered, but it was no use. Tooth stepped forward and plunged the knife into his heart.

.  
.  
.

Jack Frost opened his eyes to the dark sky. Hands held his shoulders, his head in someone’s lap. A fringe of blonde hair fell over him as a girl looked down at his face.

“You are awake,” she said, lips curling up into a smile. “Welcome to the world, my lord.”

Jack sat up. He looked around him to see three other girls looking at him eagerly. One shivered violently, her hair completely white. He looked to his right to see a pond of ice. Slowly, he got to his feet and walked over to his element, where he felt most at home. He took in the reflection he saw: the shock of white hair, the frosted blue eyes, the harsh lined jaw. 

It was an attractive body he found himself in. 

He turned back to the girl who had been holding him. She was bared before him, save for the blood spattered about her face and chest. She was perfect.

“What is thy name?” Jack’s voice was dark and full of devious promise. The girl raised her chin, candlelight flickering in the blue of her eyes.

“Elsa.”

“Elsa.” Jack smirked. “Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”

.  
.  
.  
_I am so sick of it_


End file.
